


There Are No Stars in the Sky

by Thuglein



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: A bit OOC?, AU, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Charles You Slut, F/M, M/M, Plot, So..., and I have zero confidence, but I had always wanted to write cherik, first time writing in this fanfom, past Charles/Moira (kind of), past Hank/Raven, poles, sorry - Freeform, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3420038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuglein/pseuds/Thuglein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles doesn't know why he's working for a secret, international peace program that has cult and not-peace-but-war written all over it, but he's glad to be working there when a hot piece of ass walks in to help with Project X. He wonders if it would be too forward of him to just say, "You, my friend, got the booty."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello, I'm Charles and you, my friend, got the booty.

**Author's Note:**

> On Hiatus : (

Charles yawned, turning off the beeping noise and rolled over. _Five more minutes. Just five more bloody minutes._

“Charles! Get up already! You’re going to be late for work dammit!” Loud banging accompanied the shouting on the other side of his bedroom door. He groaned. God, his head was killing him. What the hell happened last night?

“Raven, yes, alright, I’m up. Please, just stop...all the noise…” He buried his head in the pillow. Even his own voice sounded loud. Thankfully his sister hadn’t come in, ready to physically pull him out of bed. She must have been in a hurry this morning. Why was that? Oh. Right. He remembered now. She had come home shrieking and going on about a role in a new spy film. They had gone out drinking together, since both didn’t have many, just two really, friends to invite. Charles was charming and tried to look for the best in people, really he did try. Raven was overprotective and had quite a temper. Together they couldn’t make many lasting acquaintances, let alone friendships. They had two friends between them: a scientist and a CIA agent. Both of which had no social lives either, which really wasn’t their fault.

He laid there for a moment, listening to his sister’s footsteps fade. Then with a groan, he sat up and almost fell back down. His head was killing him. He groaned, waiting for the dizziness to fade. He was never drinking again. Ever. After the world stopped spinning and he could at least look at the wall without the feeling of nausea, he stumbled to the bathroom to throw up and get himself somewhat presentable for breakfast.

It was bright and sunny in the kitchen. No clouds in the sky and birds could be heard chirping. There was faint laughter of children from the street. A beautiful day. And he hated it. He just wanted to turn off the sun and crawl back into bed.

“Raven, please turn off the sun.”

She snorted and handed him a mug of tea and a plate of food. “That’s the last time I’m letting you get drunk. Not only do you get so cranky, but you get dumber in the morning. We need those brain cells.”

He gave her a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Hmm—well, thank you for the greasy food. And don’t worry, I don’t ever plan to drink again. I really think I shouldn’t go to work. I’ll be useless anyways. All I’ll want to do is curl up under my desk and sleep.”

She rolled her eyes and set about making sandwiches. “You need to go to work. Don’t you have some kind of bigwig coming over or something? Besides, work will probably keep you distracted. And we need your paycheck. You know, in case this audition falls through.”

“Oh, darling, I’m sure you’ll do great. They all just don’t know talent when they have it standing right in front of them.”

“I just—I wish I was _normal_ , you know? Oh, don’t give me that look. I know what you’re going to say. Yes, I’m perfect the way I am, I have a loving brother and a home, blah blah blah. Yes, sure, I believe you, I trust you, but Charles, people don’t care. They abhor me because of it! Just because I’m not from their world, that I didn’t have to plow through hours of classes and low-budget commercials.” Tears welled up in her blue eyes.

“Oh, Raven—” he got up and hugged her tightly, “—they’re all just jealous. Who else could flawlessly slide into one character after another? You’re born to be an actress. Really, they’re all just bratty snots with no ammunition but their own insecurities to reflect back as biting words. I know! I should accompany you to that audition. I could probably seduce all the competition into quitting!”

She laughed and pushed away from him. “Ha, no way! You can’t sleep with my co-workers! The amount of drama that’ll come out of that alone… Besides you just want to skip work. I can handle this, just be the dutiful breadwinner. Why are you so opposed to going today anyways? I didn’t think a mere headache would fell the great Charles Xavier.”

He rolled his eyes and regretted it immediately. Ouch. “It’s _not_ just a _mere headache_!”

Her blonde curls bounced as she shook her head. “Remember that time when you jumped into the freezing river for that stupid device and got pneumonia? And still went to work even though you were practically melting into a puddle of snot and phlegm?”

Charles winced at the mental image. “Yes, but—”

“No but’s. You’re going. Hey, what’s got your panties in a twist that you’re being so difficult?” She neatly wrapped each sandwich in a napkin, putting them in a basket.

He sighed and put down his finished mug. He reached for more bacon and some eggs avoiding her eyes. He tried to make his movements seem careful and not slow. Raven stared at him pointedly as she grabbed more items to for the basket. Well, he could place food onto his plate for only so long.

“I might you know—be...me. You know how I get with the experiments and weapons and everything. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t just quit and run off to a different country, living my days as a bunny rancher or rock collector.”

“Oh, Charles. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You can be so very charming when you want to be. And you know the answer to that. You signed a contract. And all those other papers regarding secrecy and so on.” She arranged some fruits beside the sandwiches, leaning back and over, giving his head a pat. "Besides, I doubt you'd be able to stomach such a mundane lifestyle," she added with a smile.

“Well, yes, but this is a representative from the government. Not from ours either. He’s from Germany. You know how they all are! Only really interested in war and one-upping the other countries. You know I don’t deal well with those types. You aren’t the only one with a temper, dear sister. What if I start a war? Or something like that fiasco with Russia.”

Raven huffed, grabbing his head and giving him a peck on the cheek. “If I can get through this audition with all those snots, then you can get through work without insulting someone and starting a war. Let’s both come home today without getting sued or starting war, yes?”

He sighed. “Yes, you’re right. I better put myself in something more presentable than boxers and a shirt then.” She smiled brightly at him. He loved her smile, so bright, quite the opposite of that fearful pout that night he found her in the basement, all bruised and bleeding.

She peered at him slyly as she finished up the basket. "That Russian fellow was a tad bit cute though, in a mafia-ish sort of way. Though his fashion sense was terrible."

"Mmm, well, I'm just glad that we're not in the same workplace. The havoc we'd cause!" He gingerly got up, heading back to his room.

She laughed and said, “Yes, that would be cause for international alarm. And don’t forget your lunch!”

He glanced over his shoulder, throwing back, “Don’t worry! I probably won’t even finish this one either, with the amount you always put in there. It's like you're trying to fatten me up or something.”

There was a brief sound of footsteps and her arms were around him. She gave him a small squeeze.

“Don’t let the bigwig get to you. Come home safely. And you need to eat more.”

He turned around and smiled softly at her. “Of course. You as well, don’t punch anyone and cause any lawsuits. Come home safely. And I will.” She bounded away with a smile of her own as he turned back.

…

Charles was in the middle of an experiment when Hank poked his head in, announcing that they’re all being called to the conference room. That their guest had arrived. By this time, his headache had eased up and he was in a better mood; the experiment was going well. The specimen had been reacting positively with the new formula. It was another step towards evolution.

“Ah, yes, I’m coming, let me just—” He shuffled his notes into a somewhat decent pile and stuck it into his clipboard.

Hank peered at his notes and the monoculture. “It’s going well then?”

He turned to his friend, smiling. “Wonderfully! There’s just a few more kinks I need to sort out.” He and Hank had met at the lab, both fresh out of college and eager to change the world. Charles was the only one willing to talk with the fellow scientist, patiently wading through his awkwardness and shyness. Hank really was smart, much more brilliant than him, when it got down to it. He was worse than Charles when it came to obsessing over experiments, huddling in the lab for days. Hank and his sister had dated briefly, but his friend needed a more interested partner, and Raven wanted adventure. 

Hank handed him some papers, pushing his glasses up nervously. “This is what they plan to do with your project.”

Charles took the papers and scowled. What the hell? No way are they killing people with this. _No bloody way he'd allow that._ He looked sideways at Hank and raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you get these? I imagine they had wanted me to complete the serum first before informing me, if they had even intended to do that,” he said bitterly.

He gave a sly smile. “I, uh, kind of took it from McCone’s desk…”

“Kind of?” He shook his head chuckling.

He raised his hand. “In my defense, his door was open and the papers were being very conspicuous. You know, as if McCone wanted us to find it...”

He frowned. Maybe. McCone wasn’t really the type to go massacring people. It was part of the reason Charles had relied on him rather than reporting to the lab director. McCone was head of the CIA, but he was also overseeing this little lab. Rather than making any big decisions for which direction the lab went, he was in charge of making sure none of the employees tattled to the media or other entities. Their objective was similar to that of Project Rebirth, but with more varying purposes than super soldiers, and on a much larger scale. It was international. There were scientists from all over the world in laboratories similar to this one, all working for the “betterment of humanity”. Their specific lab had an emphasis on knocking out enemies rather than shooting them down and killing them, minimizing fatalities. They also focused on various diseases, especially those more prevalent in third-world countries. There were a lot of squabbles, the intelligence agencies and governments funding the labs competing to be the best and fastest, but for the most part, they all managed to work together and not start World War 3. They had a lame cultish name called the Betterment of Humanity Selective, or BoHS.

Charles _tsk_ ed and stomped the rest of the way to the conference room. He pushed the door open, ready to shout and spit fire. He saw the room, full of grim-looking bigwigs and tired scientists. Oh, and there was Moira by McCone. Sebastard Shaw... ugh, him. A blonde woman in all white. And there was…

...one hot piece of booty. Long legs, a firm ass (he could tell from the way those pressed slacks hugged his buttocks), a narrow waist, crossed arms (he was sure they were lean with the way his turtleneck stretched over them, he could see the folds and wrinkles on them perfectly) over a broad chest leading up to strong shoulders and a partially hidden (but he was sure equally perfect) neck. And his face! A strong jaw and sculpted cheekbones. A frowning mouth (but still undeniably sexy and kissable) smooth, auburn hair, and piercing gray-green eyes… that were looking straight at him. Oh god, how long had he been staring? His face heated up, blushing bright red. The man must think him some kind of lunatic or creep. He couldn’t believe he was giving a mental monologue of this guy’s assets, and yes they were _very_ good assets—he gave himself a mental slap and tried to stop freaking out. He was saved from further embarrassment when he stumbled into the room, almost falling flat on his burning face.

“Ah, ouch. Charles, if you’re going to go stomping briskly, don’t just stop. You—” Hank broke off behind him as all eyes stared at them, some in amusement, but most in bored impatience.

Charles cleared his throat, taking Hank’s arm and leading them to a couple of seats next to Moira, careful to avoid the gaze of the man with the nice ass. He leaned over to Moira, whispering in her ear, “Who’s the guy with the rocking booty?”

She snorted and covered up the rest of her laugh with a cough. He smiled. She had looked so serious, and he really did want to know. Moira and him had an almost-relationship but they both decided that there were too many secrets involved, given their professions. Now, they were in a stage of friendship past that. Really, all those dark things had to go somewhere, or they’d eat her, and him, up. Even this close, they stayed friends. She wanted to focus on her job and he didn’t do well in long-term relationships.

“Is there something wrong MacTaggert?” McCone said.

She cleared her throat and shook her head no.

He stared at her suspiciously for a moment, then turned to address the room. “Everyone, this is Captain Lensherr and Lieutenant Frost from the German lab. They’re here to help implement Project X. They’ll collaborate with you to speed up the project. _Play nice_.”

Shaw scoffed. “Don’t treat us like children McCone. I’m director of this lab.”

McCone raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yes you are, and I want you to stay after the meeting. There are a lot of discrepancies in your past reports.”

Shaw paled. McCone gestured at him and he stood up, turning to the sweet piece of ass—Erik Lehnsherr. Charles mentally sighed. Okay, he needed to stop objectifying the man. This was ridiculous. He was going to a strip club after this. He needed to get laid or something. And maybe he could polish his dance skills. The pole and him have been apart for too long.

“Captain, Lieutenant, let me introduce you to our team. I’m Sebastian Shaw, Sebastian is fine, I like to keep a friendly environment here.” Charles mentally rolled my eyes. “Moira is part of the CIA and if you have any concerns that I cannot assist with, you may take them to her should John not be here.” McCone glared at the informal address, but let him go on. Shaw smirked at him. He gestured towards Hank, “Hank McCoy is our resident computer wiz and biologist. He’ll be in charge of all your nifty little gadgets.” Hank frowned at the plain description. “And these fine gentlemen are our benefactors; I’m sure you are already familiar with them.”

Charles raised his eyebrows, looking at Shaw. He stared at back. Oh, that ass. He had been trying to come on to him since he got here five years ago. He was rebuffed of course, but that didn’t stop his advances. He didn’t know what Shaw saw in him, but he felt it was more than just getting into his pants. The man was definitely up to something.  Shaw must have seen him ogling Captain Lehnsherr’s ass. Hell, the whole room did.

“I’ll show you around the facilities. We—”

Shaw was interrupted by the Captain clearing his throat. He paused and looked at him, eyes narrowing at being interrupted. “I believe you missed someone.” He gestures at Charles. Charles almost squealed. Oh, god, he was being a ninny. But, well, he was noticed! He decided he liked this man, and not just his ass.

Moira interjected, “Yes, Shaw, he is a bit of an important component, the project being named after him and all.”

Their director scowled, but pointed to the grinning brunette. “This is Charles Xavier. He’s our one and only geneticist—” What? He didn’t like to share, “—and you will primarily be working with him. He’s in charge of Project X—”

“X for Xavier!” Charles piped up unnecessarily, locking his blue eyes with the steely green ones. He tilted his head just so. He knew that angle did things to people’s hearts. Captain Lensherr just blinked sternly at him. Well, so much for the adorable approach. He pouted. He thought he saw a twinkle in those cold eyes. He smiled wide, trying not to giggle.

Shaw cleared his throat, glaring at him. “As I was saying, he created and is perfecting Serum X.”

One of the Sergeants—Stryker—looked at Charles. He knew immediately that this man was the one wanting to use his serum for violence. “And how is that coming along Xavier?”

He gritted his teeth. “It’s going quite well. I just have to do a few more experiments and it should double perfectly as a bonafide rage antidote and knockout gas. It’ll _temporarily_ make the targets calm and complacent after being knocked out.”

“What?” Stryker turned to McCone and said, “This isn’t what was agreed on.”

Before McCone could speak, Charles stood up and held up the papers Hank gave him. “And _this_ isn’t what I signed up for.”

Stryker glared at him, eyes narrowed in rage. “You are a mere _employee_. It’s not your decision on what to make or how to use it. You just do what we tell you to.”

Rage was making his blue eyes positively stormy. He balled his fists and spat out, “I joined BoHS because I want to help humanity, not destroy it! I refuse to make you weapons to kill more people in war. I created this serum to help prevent such casualties!”

“You will work and finish this serum as you’ve been employed to do!”

“I will do no such thing. What are you going to do? Fire me? Ha! Good luck completing Project X then! Only I know how this could work, how it’s made. All its aspects! Without me, you would be set back years, if you can even ever figure it out. There’s a reason why I’m the only geneticist here.”

Stryker’s face flushed red with anger. “How dare you! We are trying to protect the peace and this country! Those are enemies! Would you sympathize with a rapist? Or a murderer?”

“Please calm down Sergeant,” the auburn-haired captain said. Stryker looked like he wanted to continue, but obeyed higher-ranking officer. Lehnsherr turned his gaze on Charles. “I understand you don’t want to hurt people but these aren’t civilians we are talking about. They are ruthless men, raping, torturing, and killing other other people. Not all humans are as good as you seem to think.”

Okay, now he _didn’t_ like him. “I know that! But death and violence will beget more death, more violence. They will not bring us peace!”

Erik shook his head. “All humans are the same. They are greedy and selfish. We’ve had wars because of their thirst for power. There is only the lesser of two evils. Peace was never an option.”

Charles glared at him. He couldn’t do this right now. And he really didn’t want to start a war. He promised Raven after all. He took a deep breath, turning away. He silently pushed his chair in and walked to the door. He looked back at the room with disappointment. He locked eyes with the Captain. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”


	2. 2: Hanging from the pole, he thought, I crave that mineral.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles likes himself a good pole, yes he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know how I get the titles for these things, really. I must apologize beforehand if the smut isn't of the best quality. I need more inspiration.

After his little outburst—okay, not little, but he’d done worst—he packed up his stuff, ready to head home. He made sure to push in his chair. He stopped by the lounge, snatching up the basket Raven had made. Those bastards didn’t deserve such good food. They can all just eat whatever bland thing the cafeteria put out for the day. He left swiftly, having no desire to witness the consequences of firing the first shot. He didn’t regret any of it. They can shove their narrow ideals up their asses and eat it. Backwards. Regurgitate? No, that wasn’t the right word. Well, whatever, it can come up one end and out the other. See how they like that! He should totally make some kind of drug to do just that! Then, he’ll bring doughnuts doused in the stuff. Everyone loves doughnuts. None will be the wiser.

He banged his head against the steering wheel, making the horn go off. Oh, what was he thinking? The places his mind went when he becomes upset is terrifying. He didn’t think it was even possible to change the whole digestive system to reverse. Maybe he’ll just give them all a serious case of diarrhea. No, no. He was being petty. He was better than this. A hairless serum was much better. Imagine them all with no eyebrows!

He drove angrily back to the apartment he shared with Raven, probably breaking a few traffic rules. As soon as he got back, he flopped right into bed. He glanced at the clock, It was only half past one. Raven shouldn’t be back for another couple of hours. Besides, he was so tired.

…

He woke up to someone knocking around in the kitchen. He groggily got up, shuffling to the kitchen to see what the noise was all about.

The noise was caused by his sister stirring something enthusiastically in a bowl and trying to close the oven with her foot.

“Cake, Raven? I take it the audition went well? That looks dangerous. I’m sure the batter will wait a few moments while you close the oven.”

“Charles! You’re home early! And yes! I got it!” she exclaims, half-startled. The beating of what he now saw as dough slowed. He looked at the clock on the wall, long hand just shy of seven and small hand ticking merrily past ten. He wasn’t that early. Okay, well, maybe. He usually came back past eleven. But still.

She came around the island, apron stained with cake batter and other  colorful ingredients. She studied him for a moment with soft eyes.

“What happened?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry to interrupt the celebration for your success with my failure. We could talk about this tomorrow if you want.”

“Oh, Charles, of course not! Sit down and tell me what happened!” She ushered him into the living room, taking off the apron.

“Don’t put that there; it’ll stain the couch.” She huffed but went to the kitchen. He heard the sound of water as he settled into the couch.

She came back, looking expectantly at him from where she sat on the ottoman. So he told her everything, going into detail about Lehnsherr at her prompting. He told her he’s not upset over standing up for his beliefs but for breaking his promise to come home level-headed with one over the bigwigs. And she assured him it was the right thing to do. After finishing, he leaned back, suddenly exhausted. Not in a physical sense, no, but mentally and emotionally. They sat like that for awhile in companionable silence, Raven eventually getting up to refrigerate the batter. He stayed slumped on the couch. After a moment, she stood over him, hands on her hips, and a sly grin on her face. He stared at her warily.

“Charles…”

“Raven.”

“I know what you need.”

“Raven if this is one of your weird and dangerous—”

“Relax! It’s nothing like that. You’re right.”

He looked at her, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“You need a good lay!”

He groaned, closing his eyes. There was no way. He really wasn’t in the mood either. He just wanted to crawl under the covers and stay there for a long, long time. Not forever, but close.

“I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood to be accommodating. I’m sure I’ll scare off anyone who comes within a ten meter radius of me.”

“Oh brother, don’t be like that. The poles always made you feel better.”

He perked up at that. “Define poles.”

She grinned widely at him. “Maximoff poles.”

He stared at her in astonishment. “No way.”

“Yes way.”

“B-but...how!? How did you— What—”

She laughed gleefully. “So, I met someone.”

He raised his brows at this. “When?”

“Today. And! Before you say anything, we’re really just friends, for now anyways.”

He bit his lip. Well. “And this has what to do with Maximoff’s poles?”

“Irene—the friend—is manager of Maximoff. I met her after the audition. We accidentally swapped lattes at that little coffee shop by the theatre and then we got to talking and she’s a very interesting person.”

“I’m glad you found a friend, but that doesn’t explain how you got us into Maximoff.”

His sister rolled her eyes at him. “Brother, dearest, you’re not the only one who can get onto someone’s good side,” she said with a wink.

“But you said you weren’t f—”

“Yet! We’ll get there, hopefully tonight. So come on, get up. The club opens at eleven and I want to have as much time to have fun as possible!”

“It sounds like you’re abandoning me to a bunch of perverts while you go play with a pretty girl…”

“Maximoff is high class! Besides, I got you your own private room to dance in so no one can get grabby.”

“Okay, rich perverts then. Ah, but it’s not fun dancing alone either.”

She threw up her hands, exasperated. “Well, invite Hank or Moira then. Just get up and get dressed.”

“We both know Hank doesn’t do well in those enviroments. And Moira is busy with whatever assignment McCone has got her on. Why are you in such a hurry anyways? We’ve got a whole hour and a half. It should only take twenty or so minutes to get there.”

“I need to be perfect,” she replied huffily. “Just get dressed in what you usually wear. If you really don’t want to come, then fine.” She turned swiftly out of the room, heading off to prep herself.

Charles sat there a moment, contemplating. He slumped lower. Well, there’s no helping it. He couldn’t very well let his sister go there alone, now could he? Even if she was going to abandon him as soon as they arrived. A slow smile twisted his mouth. Well, he really did need a good fucking. Maybe he would be able to call in sick tomorrow, complaining of back pain.

…

They arrived at the club a little past eleven. Raven was in a slinky, midnight blue dress with a lacy maroon back and little red teardrop patterns on part of the skirt that rode up her thigh when she sat. It was strapless and the only thing preventing it from falling was her breasts. Her feet were adorned with red stilettos. She put her hair up in messy curls, her face featuring smoky eyes and a smirk on her face. He almost went into big brother mode several times, but he couldn’t admonish her when he was in a no better, if not less, state. Outwardly, he was wearing a fitting suit, no tie, with several buttons undone on his shirt. He slicked his hair back, no gel (he hated that stuff, water it was then). His hair was already drying, leaving the curly strands to fall haphazardly around his face. But his hair wasn’t the worst part. Underneath his suit, he wore a mesh shirt, tight, purple panties (made for men, not borrowed from, er, yeah, just leave it at that), and silky stockings held up by garter belts. He felt both ridiculous and sexy at the same time. It had been a long while since he’s worn such an ensemble. Not since college when he was desperate to pay for school. When the pole was his career and he was revered.

As soon as they stepped up to the door, they were ushered inside, past the main lounge and several more, private rooms to a plush alcove towards the back of the club. Maximoff was themed in dark colors of purple, red, and blue and furnished in honey and silver. There was a dark, forbidden atmosphere that made him languid. They were offered drinks and they sat there, quietly whispering until a suited man, much like the one at the door, came to take Raven to her mysterious Irene.

Charles mouthed, Tell me details later, as she was whisked away. So, now he had this room all to himself. There wasn’t a pole in the room and it didn’t look like anyone was going to lead him to one anytime soon, so he did the only the only thing he could do: he went to find one himself.

He wandered quietly around, carefully walking with a confident gait and a cool stare. He was left alone. Soon he found himself in a different hallway, with less doors and silence. He walked past one that was slightly ajar and he could hear moans and grunts and the sound of skin on skin. Well, then. Maybe the rooms were soundproofed? Or were the rest just empty? He walked to the end and entered a door leading to another dark, but narrower hallway. Okay, now this was getting sketchy. He was relieved to find an empty room at the end instead of some strangers rutting.

The room was circular with cushioned seating lining the outer edge up to the door. There was a break within the seating, parallel to the door, on the other side of the room with what looked like a mini-fridge. The tones were in similar color to the rest of the club’s red and purples and blues, but lighter. It was a very pretty room and obviously for VIPs but he didn’t notice anything else. His whole attention was caught by the gleaming pole in the middle of the room. It was a bluish color, almost like an angelic shaft. There were lights embedded in the floor that illuminated the pole, highlighting it in a halo of gold and pink. Charles swallowed. It was a glorious pole. He could worship it all night, but it had been so long and he yearned to dance upon it. He quickly stripped off his jacket, shirt, and slacks and toed of his shoes, wasting no more time. He could adore and paw at it later. Now, though...

He touched the pole tentatively. it was cool to the touch. With a leap, he hoisted himself up, falling easily into a routine he hadn’t practiced since his university days. He slid his leg up slowly, sensuously, as if the pole were his lover. He spun and twisted, soon breaking into a sweat from exertion. He was surprised that he still managed to hold himself up after years of no practice. He pushed up, his groin flush against the metal, back arching, thighs quivering, left arm straining, his hand gripping the pole. His right hand slowly, sliding from his chest down down down. He opened his eyes, tilted back, his panting, flushed face turned towards the door.

His eyes widened in shock and he almost fell in a heap on the carpeted floor. Almost. Years of discipline still held despite the break in dancing. He had been so busy concentrating on the euphoria of being here again, that he hadn’t noticed the door open. Or the newcomer.

He stared at the equally shocked face. It was flushed with lust, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of green, silver in the light, around the edges. Lehnsherr was dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit. His hair was mussed as if a hand had carved through (Charles would love to run his hands through those auburn locks). He looked breathless and caught. The wine in his hands sloshed. Charles’s eyes flickered to the the captain’s obvious erection. He imagined how powerful that cock would be ramming into him. Or in his mouth. Oh how he craved that. To lick all over it.

Now the problem was getting down from his position in a seductive method. He was in the middle of a routine still. Should he continue? That’d be a show. Maybe he could make the man cum just like that. Ooh, but his muscles were becoming very sore. What to do.. Oh, yes, there.

The brunette slowly rutted against the pole, letting slip small little, desperate noises, not moving his eyes from Erik’s (he can call him that right? They were about to fuck anyways).

Scheiße.

There it was. The moment that smexy mineral left his eyes to kneel over the spilled wine and, thankfully, unbroken wineglass, Charles got himself down (it wasn’t sexy, but Erik wasn’t looking and at least he didn’t fall over himself). He sauntered over pushing the wineglass away with his stocking-clad foot. He used said foot to trace from auburn’s clothed erection up to his chin, bringing his face up to look at Charles. He made a noise in the back of his throat that got Charles leaking. Charles leaned down, placing his hands on the captain’s shoulders, smoothing up to his hair. It was surprisingly soft.

“Looks like you need a good lay. Erik, you’re not alone,” he whispered in the man’s ear.

He walked slowly back, hips swaying, to lean against the pole. “And I’m a good lay. A very groovy lay.”

Erik stared at him in disbelief and lust. It looked like there was a war going on behind those feverish green eyes, between taking him right then and there or laughing. He really hoped it was the former. Then Erik was up, pushing Charles roughly against the pole, kissing him. It was an aggressive kiss, full of teeth and tongue. It was a ferocious combination of lust and frustration and desperation. But it was how Charles expected it to be. He wrapped his hands around the taller man, trying to bring them closer.

When they parted for breath, Charles, hastily pulled his mesh shirt over his head. He pulled at Erik’s tie, bringing them back together. Erik ran his hands over Charles’ now bare skin, rubbing over the nipple and swallowing the moans the action elicited from his partner’s mouth.

Impatiently, Charles pulled at the man’s clothes, ripping a few of the buttons in his frenzy. Erik pulled back from him, eyes wild with lust.

“Do you know how expensive—”

The blue-eyed geneticist pulled him back, licking his way into Erik’s mouth and rutting against him.

“If...you can...ahh...worry about...hnn...that, then...I’m obviously n-not making you...horny enough…” he panted into the captain’s mouth.

Erik groaned, pushing back against Charles. “Charles.”

Oh, the way his name sounded on those lips! “Take your damn clothes off al—ahhh!”

Erik nipped at Charles’ neck, trailing kisses down to a nipple. He licked and nibbled, turning one then the other into a swollen nub on the flushed chest. Charles made desperate, little sounds, losing coherence. He ground himself against Erik, whining.

He unzipped his pants, bringing his erection out. And it was beautiful. Charles didn’t have a condom with him, nor did it seem like Erik had one either. But it won’t be necessary. Charles was sure it would be even more magical without one. Erik rutted against his leg while pushing the panty aside. He continued to pay careful attention to the brunette’s neck and chest, bringing his fingers up to Charles’ mouth. Those red lips closed over them, sucking obscenely. They came out with a wet pop and were quickly replaced by his mouth and tongue.

Charles moaned into Erik’s mouth as one finger pushed in. He was tight. He was distracted from the slow burn when fingers closed around his erection (when was that taken out?). Pleasure shot through him as he was stimulated in three very sensitive places. Soon, one became two and two became three.

“Erik—Ahhh! There! Yes! Ahh!” Charles arched as those fingers touched that spot. Just a few more and he’d finish. Just a few more...and suddenly the fingers left him.

He looked at the man wildly, finding a shark-like smile there. Any normal person would have found that grin intimidating and would tremble in fear. It was intimidating yes, but Charles trembled for an entirely different reason. Oh, wow, that grin and that glint in those glass-green eyes, he could very well come on the spot.

He pushed against him, whining.

Erik made chiding noises and whispered darkly, “Now, now Charles, be patient. I can’t have you cumming just yet, not without me. A good host serves his guest first.” He peppered Charles’ brow with kisses and started to push in.

“E-erik! Ahhh!” Even with preparation, it still burned, but, oh, the feeling of finally being filled by that monstrous cock.

“Shh, liebling. That’s good, so tight…” Erik whispered against Charles ear. He pushed one of Charles’ legs up, relishing in the way those bright blue eyes widened and red, red, obscenely red lips part as small, indecent sounds poured out.

Once Erik was up to the hilt, he waited until his lovely little geneticist stopped clenching so painfully tight. He closed his hands over his lover’s erection. He didn’t want him limp and done before he even got started. A desperate, clingy Charles was much better.

Erik set a fast pace and he felt his the pressure build quickly. He licked the shell of the brunette’s ear and commanded in a husky voice, “Cum for me, now.”

He let go of his cock and Charles came with a cry, sobbing his way through his orgasm. Erik followed soon after in a rain of slutty little noises and that quivering, spasming heat.

Those beautiful blue eyes looked at him tiredly as he pulled out. Those red lips smiled dreamily. He appraised his new lover, completely debauched. Cum and love bites littered his chest and he could see his own cum slowly begin to bleed out of that pert, tight ass and down exquisite legs. Legs that promptly gave out as his Charles passed out. He caught and carried him over to the couch. He fixed himself and cleaned Charles up as best as he can, dressing him up as well.

He picked up the wineglass on his way out the door. Captain Lehnsherr glanced back at the—his—little dancer and frowned. There was a speculative look in his eye. For a moment he was tempted to stay. He shook his head, closing the door gently behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do need a new title for this story. The current one doesn't fit. Any suggestions? Part of the reason I had difficulty with the smut was I was running out of nouns to call Erik and Charles. So, any suggestions besides captain, auburn, taller, man, and yeah. Btw, what do you think of switching povs? I switched to Erik's towards the end, but maybe staying with Charles only is better?


	3. Not an actual chapter. But I found something.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Affinity of Erik and Charles: 19 % *cries*  
> Ecstasy of Erik: 2 times  
> Ecstasy of Charles: 1 times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's visual, kind of. Nothing too graphic. But I found it amusing.

[http://en.inkei.net/anus/a/Erik!Charles!20150302](Cherik)

The site is interesting. Check it out if you want.


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